Once Lost, Now Found
by Just Mosie
Summary: Sequel to "Titanic": Five years after the sinking of the Titanic, Cho and Jane are called into Sacramento by Virgil Minelli. Surprises and meetings come about. Very AU.
1. Chapter One

**Well…this has been written since pretty much August (just this chapter though). I am currently working on the third chapter and I do not expect this story to be all that long. It will feature Minelli and Van Pelt unlike "Titanic" did. It's just that Van Pelt doesn't show up until probably the third chapter at the earliest. Please be patient if I go on another "hiatus" after maybe posting the third chapter. I'll have to attempt get as much done before I go back to school on the 3****rd**** of January.**

**Enjoy**

**Disclaimer: Not in my Christmas stocking this year, I checked. **

**Once Lost, Now Found**

**Chapter One**

"Jane! Get up, you have a customer," he didn't really feel like moving from the couch that resided underneath the window. It was soft, plush, and comfortable which made moving very uncomfortable. Of course, Cho, sort of like his business partner, wouldn't take no for an answer when it came to the whole business aspect.

Almost five years ago they had started this little business in a small shop in New York City. At first he had decided he would rather not do anything, the _Titanic_'s sinking still fresh in his mind, but the stoic man had pressed on reminding him that he would most likely die of starvation or of the northeastern winters. Actually, dying from the cold seemed like a reasonable way to go and he was completely aiming for it. But Cho wanted his help with the business, so in many ways Cho saved his life, not that he wanted it saved anyway. To him working as a painter was tedious, but it was enough to barely pay the rent and put some food on the table. Jane did the painting, Cho handled most of the money and usually was the one to set the prices.

Of course Jane didn't remain on painting only. He would stand on street corners performing 'magic tricks' to wow a crowd. Usually small children would gather around him, maybe offer him some random gift or maybe just a little bit of money, but never a lot. Cho too, actually strayed from just money keeping. Sometimes he worked on building roads as the American population continued to grow throughout the twentieth century.

"Jane you up?" his eyes snapped open, searching around the ceiling above him. Sighing softly, he moved into a sitting position and rested one of his hands on his thighs. Slowly he reached up, hand coming to rest over his heart where a golden chain bearing a cross necklace resided. For the past five years he kept it there in remembrance of the second woman he loved and lost.

"Yeah, Cho, I'm up," he ran a hand through his currently unruly curls. Jane never really bothered to fix his hair up, as there was really no point. When he would go back to sleep in a few hours it would go back to being unruly again and he would just have to re-comb through it again. It was almost as boring as painting the portraits of the high-class women dressed in their best attire or the woman holding onto the small wailing newborn child. In some ways, he preferred the children. They were the only ones that would not bat their eyelashes at him and send sultry glances his way as he painted their facial expressions. It tended to get distracting when a woman lay out before him only wrapped in a thin sheet giving him certain looks as he worked. Usually they were married, this was how he had received the black eye he currently had.

"I'm up," he repeated standing up on his feet. He began to pace before the couch, rotating his shoulders to alleviate the pent-up tension in his muscles. Tossing his head from side to side he sighed again, suddenly realizing that he was slightly hungry.

Wait, customer. Damn.

Rolling his eyes, he set out to the front of the store, running a hand across the top of his head to possibly fix a few curls. Of all the things Patrick Jane dreaded in the world was a customer. Nowadays it took a great amount of force for him to do a single portrait of a family's newborn child or couple of newlyweds.

"You look like hell," Jane looked over to Cho, who now stood in the doorway, "Fix yourself up and go out front," Jane barely nodded, moving towards the other side of the room to glance into the slightly cracked mirror.

Well, he could tell that he needed to shave, but that was a benefit of having blond hair. The stubble was easily hidden and would not easily be detected unless the other person were to be standing before him. He raised his hand and began brushing back some of the unruly curls, trying to place them into a better 'place' before he would go out to the store front. He decided that he would fix his hair later, he would need some water to smooth it down. His customers would just have to deal with his more natural morning look.

With that, he turned to slide through the door. His stomach began to rumble, the complete emptiness of it started to become a bit annoying and quite frankly he had not his morning tea yet. Of course, Cho would tell him that he had to wait until after he spoke to the latest customer. This only happened most of the time and by now Jane always knew what his partner would say.

Before entering the main portion of the store, he paused and began re-rolling up the sleeves to his shirt. He knew Cho would get on him about that, so he decided to go ahead and fix it beforehand. Once done, he sighed to himself, "Better now then never," he mumbled, pushing the door open.

Standing in the middle of the shop was Cho – no surprise – and a man that appeared to be in his late fifties to early sixties. Pausing, he watched as both men turned to look at him. Smiling, he raised his hand and moved two of his fingers.

Cho looked over at the man, tapping him on the shoulder and pointing in Jane's direction, "This is Mr. Jane," the older man nodded, "You should talk to him now."

The older man moved forward, extending his hand towards Jane, who took it and gave a firm shake, "Patrick Jane."

"Virgil Minelli."

Jane smiled, recognizing the name, "Charmed," Minelli was far from home, the man had immigrated to California a few years ago. He would be lying if he said it didn't spark his interest at all as to why the man was here. There were probably plenty of painters and artists in California, why would he venture all the way back to New York for just _him?_

"Likewise," Minelli nodded, rolling his tongue in his mouth, "Mr. Jane, I have a favour to ask of you," Jane nodded firmly, "I would like a painting of my daughter."

Jane nodded again, "All right, I can begin right away."

Minelli smiled, "Good, good," he paused, reaching into his jacket to pull out three pieces of paper, "Now, you, Mr. Cho, and I are heading back to Sacramento tomorrow."

"California?" Jane looked over at Cho, who nodded in response, "You're asking me to go completely across the country just to paint your daughter? Why is she not here?" he knew he was being a bit bitter about the whole thing, but he did not feel up to venturing out of New York. He hasn't left in five whole years.

"She wasn't well when I left, she has come down with some kind of influenza and I grew worried that travel would be hard on her recovery," it was sensible and Jane could see his point, "I can buy you a ticket to come back to New York when the painting is completed."

Jane placed his hands in his pockets and leaned back, "Mr. Minelli, I am sorry, but unless I reach a financial agreement I will have to turn down your offer," he removed one hand from his pocket and brought it over his stomach, "It will take a lot to get me to go out of state."

The older man nodded and then once more reached into his pocket, "How about four hundred dollars? Then another four for the painting?"

Jane's eyes grew larger and he looked over at Cho. Who also looked a bit surprised at the offer. Turning back around to face Minelli, he nodded, "I agree."

**Admitidly I have really low expectations for some reason with this sequel, one of those reasons being that I finished the actually "Titanic" back in April…**


	2. Chapter Two

**I would like to thank everyone for the reviews, subscriptions, and favourting (even for "**_**Titanic**_**"!) I probably won't be able to update again until Jan 1****st**** as I still need to do a proofread of the 3****rd**** chapter. Enjoy! **

**Mabeline36**** – Thank you! :)**

**Disclaimer: Nope, it wasn't under the tree either. **

**Once Lost, Now Found**

**Chapter Two**

When Jane sat down on the train's bench seat, he felt slight unease come over him. He hadn't been on any type of transportation device in five years and the very thought of it scared him and brought back foul memories. Cho seemed all right with boarding the train and sitting himself down beside Minelli. Jane would have to give both men credit for being able to board a train with such ease, he knew he could never get over his 'phobia' of moving from one place to another.

Scooting close to the window, Jane perched his elbow on the sill and began to look out. His heart lurched in his chest when the machine began moving forward, leaving the station and becoming en route to California. Jane glanced over to Cho, who seemed nervous for only a split second before resuming his ordinary stoic demeanor. Letting out a brief sigh, Jane resigned and crossed his arms over his chest to continue to stare out the window. There was no reason for him to be really jumpy over this. The machine he was currently in was only a train, not a once magnificent ship that went down in the Atlantic. He closed his eyes and began to drift off into sleep, the powerful booming outdoor noise of the train turning into a deep lullaby reeling him into sleep. Shifting once more ever so slightly, his head slipped against the window and he mumbled something incoherently before he fell fast asleep.

…

"Is it true that Mr. Jane lost his family in England and then the new love of his life just five years prior?" Cho peered upwards at Minelli from his novel, his finger resting on the fragile paper that called to be turned, "I can see in his eyes that he is a troubled soul."

Pulling the novel slightly away from his body, Cho simply nodded in confirmation, "Yes, that is true," Cho did not really want to be talking about this, especially with Jane sleeping up against the window only a few feet away. It wasn't his business. It would be if Minelli was asking if he were indeed on the ship that went down five years ago, but Cho still would not like to remember that night. Like Jane, he viewed it as a very painful night.

"Did you know them?"

Cho shifted, crossing his arms over his chest, "Who?"

"His wife and child, the ones in England?"

The Asian man spoke without movement, "No, I did not," he almost mentioned that he had known the lost love, but kept himself from doing so. If Minelli were to ask, he would simply ignore the older man. If there was any chance that Jane were still awake, hearing them both talk about his misfortunes would place Jane in a very foul mood.

Cho was happy to see Minelli just simply nod at what was said and resign back to looking over at the small periodical he had tucked away in his overcoat before boarding the train. Uncrossing his arms, Cho picked up his novel and continued reading, once glancing over at Minelli, then back over at Jane's still body.

He was asleep.

…

_Jane stood on the water, his eyes looking over a vast space of empty ocean. He looked down, seeing a panicked fish swim by. Away from something. Quirking his eye brow, he took a hesitant step forward, seeing as he was perfectly fine on top of the water, he continued his path after the fish. It was getting faster and faster until he lost sight of it. Reaching up into his blond curls, he scratched his head. _

"_Why was I even following that fish in the first place?" he furrowed his brow even higher and brought his hand to rest balled up underneath his chin, "I mean this must be a dream," he paused and looked up, suddenly seeing fireworks above him. Why couldn't he hear them?_

_Why hadn't he seen them?_

_Twisting around, his eyes searched the skies. More fireworks erupted, popped, glowed, and fizzed out. He moved his head downwards until it was more level with directly in front of him. A large fog was laid out before him, obscuring his vision. Jane squint his eyes and took a step forward, the fog suddenly lifting and leaving an icy chill to sweep over his body. _

_Chaos. _

_So many people in danger. Complete utter chaos was going on before him once more._

_So many people._

_There were so many people jumping off the ship, arms and legs frantically searching for a place to land because of an animalistic instinct. They all opened their mouths and silently screamed, regretting the fall they had made their bodies endure before their ultimate demises. The lifejackets some wore pulled them back up, holding their cold, wet heads upright. They waved their arms, hoping for someone to come back and rescue them._

_Then he heard an all too familiar crash. It was the only sound he heard before all of a sudden all the horrible sounds he heard that night came to him at a full force. Screams, cries of agony and pain. Crashes, moaning and groaning of the once great ship right before it met its demise stood before him. _

_Jane then realized that tears had begun streaming down his face, rolling off his cheeks to splash onto the water beneath his feet. Subtle ripples began and he immediately took a step back. He looked up once more just in time to see one of the funnels fall forward onto many innocent bystanders. They were all crushed like small bugs at the mercy of a large man's shoe. His heart painfully began to hammer in his chest – much like it did that night. _

_Then another memory hit him. A young woman clutching onto the railing, smiling at him. Love and adoration ever present on her features…Teresa Lisbon, his love lost at sea. _

_He felt like he was getting sick._

His eyes snapped open and his stomach lurched as the bile rapidly rose. Jane jerked upwards, hand clutching at his mouth as he quickly tried to move away from Cho and Minelli – who was sleeping peacefully at this moment. As he moved by, he was certain that they were both awake, but he was also quite certain that they would appreciate not being covered in vomit.

"Jane?" he heard Cho call him from behind, but he didn't stop. He continued down the halls towards the nearest place to deposit his offering.

**This was the chapter that really had me stuck for a long time! Still I'm not so proud of it (I like the 3****rd**** chapter a lot more!). Chapter 4 is in progress…**


	3. Chapter Three

**Mabeline36 – Happy New Year! Here's chapter 3!(:**

**Disclaimer: Technically it's still the Christmas season and nothing new is under my good 'ole tree. Therefore…nope.**

**Once Lost, Now Found**

**Chapter Three**

The train arrived in Sacramento two weeks after Jane had that dream during the early evening. After that dream, he rarely slept. If so it was a small nap usually lasting an hour at most. It wasn't much, but enough to keep him going long enough to continue functioning. He may have not looked very good when the train pulled in – judging by the looks of others – but that was fine with him. At the moment he didn't really care, he didn't even want to be in California.

He now sat in an Oakland automobile and was en route towards the Minelli family home. He had to admit, this was an interesting new experience, but he'd rather be in New York on his couch with Cho pestering him to wake up. Sighing, he looked out the window at the new buildings they passed. Compared to New York City, Sacramento was definitely different. Sure this place was considered a major city, but it was pretty much nothing when he thought of New York. It was slightly more peaceful too.

"When was the last time you've slept?" he to the right at Cho, who had a stern look on his face, "You look like you haven't slept in days and was later run over by a train."

Jane smiled, "Is that your way of saying I look like hell, Cho?" the man didn't do anything, "Well thank you for your honesty, and probably picturing my downfall caused by such locomotive. No, I haven't had much sleep recently," he then turned back to look out the window.

Jane hated to admit it, but for some reason it seemed like Sacramento was calling him. It was an odd thing to think, but it was expected due to his obvious sleep deprivation. He just hoped to try and hope for a better night's rest tonight. He actually didn't feel like battling sleep to keep himself from dreaming. At this point he had halted the attempts to keep from sleeping. Though he didn't really know why…

Stopping at a fairly large house, Jane was almost surprised due to the relatively short automobile ride. He was expecting the Minelli family home to be out in the country surrounded by empty plains. But no, what stood before him was a house painted white with blue red shutters. The chimney had soft wisps of smoke coming out, swirling and twirling up into the sky. Before Jane knew it, the door he had been pretty much leaning on was pulled open and he just about fell forward. The driver – who had opened it – quickly caught him and held Jane up to ensure his stability.

"Are you all right sir?" he asked.

Jane nodded, "Yes, thank you," he stepped back and brushed off the imaginary dust off his bicep, and looked back at the house, almost too engrossed to hear the door open and close with a slight screech.

He quickly looked down to see a small child run through the front garden, his arms wide open, "Granddad!" he yelled gleefully.

Jane smiled seeing Minelli bend down, setting his suitcase on the ground, and taking the young boy in his arms. Minelli stood back up with the boy in his arms and spun him around, smiling down at the child.

"Granddad I missed you so much! Why did you have to leave?" Jane barely heard the boy say as he started towards the house. The internal glow was almost beckoning him forward as he gazed through the delicately handmade linen drapes, "With mummy so sick, I was worried that you may not return!"

"Oh Junior, you know I would never leave you for good," Jane almost scoffed at that. What a lie.

Jane turned around and looked at Minelli, then at the child who was now standing on the ground before the older man. The boy's dark curls lay equivalent to a mop on top of his head and his pale skin seemed to glow as the flame in a nearby gas lamp flickered. Minelli looked up and saw Jane's gaze

"Junior, why don't you go on inside and check on your mother," Minelli slightly bumped Junior forward, who mildly protested before getting a certain look from the older man. Without further ado, Junior quickly ran back into the house. Once he had done so, Jane moved to stand closer to Minelli.

"Is he named after you?"

Minelli shook his head, "No, Junior's not named after me. He's not even really my grandson. I took in his mother after she had just discovered her pregnancy. I consider her to be my daughter and I love her as such. "

Jane rolled back and forth on his feet, "That's very kind of you, not many take in a pregnant woman. "

The older man shrugged as he started towards the house, "Well, at first I wasn't going to. She promised me she would work for a place to stay, but I declined that offer. That was until her companion begged me to take her. I wound up with him too, and thus my food stock depleted rapidly."

"How old is Junior?"

"He is four years old, and has a wonderful vocabulary," Minelli stated proudly.

Jane nodded, "Yes, I realized that."

"He is a very intelligent young boy, but also a trouble-maker. He is the only child I know that can purposely turn a house into a circus in less than thirty minutes. Wayne always seems to be divided when it comes to whether or not he should encourage this behaviour."

"Wayne?" Jane quirked his eyebrow as he and Minelli halted in front of the door, the older man's hand barely hovering over the brass handle.

Minelli nodded, "Yes, the man who is probably in the kitchen with the woman he is attempting to court. The very same man who came with Teresa when she was pregnant."

Jane blanched. Wayne? Teresa? To be honest the name Wayne very rarely haunted him, but the name Teresa always did. It couldn't possibly be true that those two people were those he had lost five years ago? That wasn't possible, they had died when the _Titanic_ had gone down. He had seen that happen.

Hitching his breath in his throat, Jane wrapped his hand around the brass door handle and pushed it open. The house was finely decorated with beautiful furniture and paintings. The occasional photograph hung on the papered walls. The sight of the burning fireplace was a welcoming sight and almost pacified his now painfully rapid heartbeat.

"Virgil, so glad that you're ho-," Jane paused and felt Minelli nudge his way into the room, "Jane? Patrick Jane?"

There stood before him was Wayne Rigsby. The man who supposedly died five years ago. Now he was here…very much alive…and currently in the same state of shock that he was.

"Rigsby, you're alive?"

Jane was done. Surely he was just sleep deprived. Seeing Rigsby was only a delusion and he was not really there. The man before him was definitely not Wayne Rigsby. Wayne Rigsby was dead and gone.

But what if this wasn't a delusion?

Two arms wrapped around him in a strong bear-hug. He recognized it to be Rigsby and Jane was now becoming more and more convinced that this was real. Rigsby was actually alive.

"Rigsby?" he heard a voice behind him – Cho.

Rigsby let go of Jane, almost throwing him to the side at the sight of his old friend, "Cho!" Jane watched both men move quickly towards each other, grasping each other's hand and giving the other a firm shake, "You two both survived!"

Jane saw a rare grin on Cho's face. At the sight of his old friend the usually stoic man was showing a whole bundle of emotions. Cho even looked like he was about ready to let a few tears pass, and was trying very hard not to.

"Wayne? Is everything all right?" everyone in the room turned to the kitchen area. A young woman with vibrant red hair piled onto a bun stood in the doorway. Junior stood at her side, his arms wrapped around her legs.

Rigsby smiled and looked over at her, "Grace," he spoke calmly, "These are my two friends that I have told you about. Kimball Cho and Patrick Jane."

Grace's eyes lit up brightly and her hand flew to her mouth. Jane quickly assumed that Rigsby had told her about his story on the _Titanic_ and no doubt about the friends he had lost. Grace brought her hand down and smoothed it down Junior's back and led him closer along with her towards the men. She stood before them, glancing them up and down shyly.

"Well I am honoured to finally meet Wayne's friend's," she smiled, "Grace Van Pelt, I live across the street and was just helping the maid prepare supper as Teresa is still ill with the influenza."

Teresa…

"Lisbon?" tears sprung at Jane's eyes as an overwhelming sense of emotion moved through him. He really didn't know what to feel at this point, but the thought of her still being alive had him literally feeling as if a train had just collided with him.

Everyone nodded, "Yes," only Rigsby spoke as he glanced up the stair case, "She is getting stronger, but has been very ill these past weeks."

Jane glanced up the staircase as well, his heart thudding violently in his chest. Stepping forward, he shot everyone a look over his shoulder, almost pleading them all to permit him upstairs. Minelli nodded, almost as if silently telling him to venture upstairs. Without speaking another word, Jane was starting up the staircase, the sounds beneath his feet intensifying as he took every new step. A step closer to his lost beloved.

He arrived at the top of the stairs and looked at the end of the hall. His eyes slipped shut and he gripped his hand into a fist. Wordlessly, he continued moving down the hallway, eyes now open and looking down at the wooden planks below his feet. Jane began taking deep breaths, his hand reaching up to hold onto the side of his face in effort to calm himself. It was unknown until now that he had been indeed silently crying.

His hand hovered over the glass door knob. He hesitated, his fingers barely brushing over the smooth surface when his breath hitched in his throat. Closing his eyes once more, he leaned up against the nearby wall. All energy quickly evaporated from his body. Tears fell freely from his eyes, sliding down his cheek and down onto the collar of his shirt.

Opening his eyes with a newfound determination, his hand quickly gripped the glass handle and turned. With a resonating creak, it opened.

**I'm working on chapter four…don't worry they make eye contact.**


	4. Chapter Four

**Okay, I'm very sorry for a delay! I started writing this chapter weeks ago and expected it out…weeks ago, but that obviously didn't happen and I am furious with myself for it. I don't know what to blame, and it is indeed my fault as I haven't managed my schedule all too well, but I have just been busy since returning back to school. Also thank ShunKickShunKers for giving me a friendly prod to finish writing this chapter. Merci beaucoup!**

**School+ Play/Theatre+ Homework/Studies/Must make good marks+ slight personal issues+ The need for sleep = no time**

**Liann – Thank you so much for reading and enjoying!**

**Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I do not own this show and it's characters.**

**Once Lost, Now Found**

**Chapter Four**

Jane took a slow step into the room. It was softly illuminated by an orange glow and a slight pulsing look as the lamp faded in and out. He stopped and his eyes locked onto a figure lying on their side. Jane took another step forward, wincing as the floorboard creaked beneath him. The figure stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent. Only then did Jane realize that Lisbon was definitely alive. She lay before him – despite her back being turned from him – asleep. Her body moving up and down clearly showed of the life within her. His heart swelled and tears pricked his eyes. These past five years have been complete utter hell for him, and he knew for sure he did not make it any easier on Cho, who had also lost a dear friend.

Jane moved closer to the bed, looking over at her. Her skin was a healthy colour, though the dark circles underneath her eyes caused some worry. She was also extremely thin, which was consistent with Virgil's story of her being sick with the influenza. Other than the dark circles and the lack of weight, she looked decent. She had aged in these past five years, but not by much.

Smiling softly, he leaned down and pressed a kiss on her temple, "I love you," he murmured, wanting nothing but to wake her up and gather her in his arms. He wanted to kiss her until neither could breathe no more and make love to her until he was void of energy.

Moving back only a little, he kneeled down on the woven rug beside her bed. He gradually moved his head down until it lay on the mattress along with her sleeping body. He sighed and shut his eyes, feeling a lot of the tension he had sustained in his body quickly dissipate.

Opening his eyes, his adept gaze landed on a small black book. It was lying open near her pillow, a few of the pages bent as she had no doubt rolled over on it countless times. His curiosity got the better of him and he reached forward and grasped onto it. He held it up towards the dull lighting and squinted.

_It has been five long years since the once great unsinkable ship met its match in the Atlantic. Since then I have delivered a strong son, and until discovering of my condition I felt no reason to live without Patrick. After our son was born I took one glance at him and realized that I had to stay strong. And for five years I have done that. Now I must move onto the next chapter of my life. It will be painful, but by accepting __**Mr. Mashburn's engagement**__ I have found a way to move on with my life, despite not loving him as much as he deserves. _

Jane dropped the book, his eyes open wide. After five long years he had finally found her, but only to realize that she now was about to belong to another man. He gripped onto the book tighter and set his jaw straight. He then looked up as Lisbon shifted before him and he almost wanted to awaken her, but he didn't. Instead he found the fountain pen and scribbled a note for her and stood up. He ripped the page out of the book and lightly placed it on the pillow beside her head.

With sad eyes, he turned to leave her room. He would return back downstairs and complete his business in Sacramento before having to head back to New York. Jane knew that if he stayed around her or in California longer than needed he would take her away and merely elope with her.

He took one last glance at her still form before smiling gravely. Looking down and pressing his hands into his jacket pockets, he walked out of the room, fingers barely grazing the cold brass door knob.

…

She woke the next morning with the sun's slight rays leaking through the linen drapes fastened to her window. Today she felt stronger than ever, maybe even strong enough to do a couple of her chores that she had been neglecting for the past few weeks. Junior would be happy to see her up and walking around the house, although he may get too excited and wish for her to play a game outside.

Smiling, she sat up in her bed and pushed the light blanket off her legs to swing them off the side of the bed. Sighing, she reached back to pull her hair back away from her neck and pull it into a soft bun. It was something she had always been able to do with great ease and always had been the most comfortable with her hair that way. She stood up and began to stretch when her black book fell to the ground near her right foot. She quirked her eyebrow and slowly bent down to pick it up.

A page was missing.

Lisbon's mouth moved into a frown as she looked up and around her room. Surely Junior wasn't in here yet today. By the light illuminating from the linens it wasn't that late in the morning yet. By this time Junior was usually downstairs in the kitchen trying to put some jam on a too big a slice of bread. Shaking her head, she looked over her shoulder and paused. There near her pillow was a bent piece of paper resting on the mattress. Narrowing her eyes in its direction, she moved to pick it up.

Immediately her breath hitched in her throat. The words written on the paper had tears coming at her eyes and her heart beating like mad. Surely this wasn't real? What was written on the paper could only be brought on by feverish dreams, but she had gotten over her fever weeks ago. Maybe she was just dreaming? Or Wayne decided to play some childish joke on her. But Lisbon knew one thing for sure, Wayne did like to pull childish jokes from time to time, but never like this. He had a strange sense of humour, but it wasn't sick.

Patrick Jane was dead.

She had spent two years telling herself that and another three grieving over her loss. She would walk around Sacramento in an emotionless manner. That was until Walter Mashburn came into her life. Granted she did not love him like she loved Jane, not even close at that, but he was nice and somewhat reminded her of him. The reminder was the main reason why she accepted his proposal, she knew that marriage was something she would probably have to endure anyway, mostly because Minelli wouldn't be around forever.

But what if he wasn't dead?

Lisbon shook her head and folded the bent paper and tucked it beneath her pillow. She slowly stood and walked gracefully over to the wardrobe at the far end of the wall. She opened it and picked out a skirt and silk shirt. The petite woman slipped her soft linen night gown off her body and pulled out her newer clothing articles. Adjusting them to the correct places, she looked at herself in the mirror and picked up her brush. Swiping it through her hair a couple of times and pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, she set the brush back down. Softly inhaling then exhaling, she turned towards the door and set out towards the kitchen.

As she moved down the hallway towards the staircase, she felt at ease hearing Junior's happy chatter directed at Rigsby, but angry and sad at the same time. Words could not describe what she felt. Lisbon felt as if Rigsby had betrayed her, the one man that had treated her like his sister and less like husbandless mother. He of all people knew how long it took her to bounce back once arriving to America, and especially to Sacramento. For someone who tried to protect her for the past five years he turned out to be a real awful man at heart.

Angrily biting her lip, she braced her hand on the wooden railing of the staircase and started her descent. The hurt and anger was starting to move in and cloud her judgment. She would have no control over her words or actions, regardless if Junior sat beside the large man. She hated for Junior to see her like this, but she could not control her anger. Tightening her hand on the railing, she felt her heart begin to beat ever faster and she blinked a couple of times, not so surprised to find a few tears rolling down her cheeks and falling down her chin.

"Teresa?" she heard Rigsby call out. He must have heard her when she stepped on that God-awful wooden plank that had become old over time, "Are you there? I have wonderful news!"

She refused to reply to the man and made it off the staircase and turned into the kitchen, "Mummy!" she saw Junior leap from his chair and bound straight towards her with open arms, "Mummy I missed you!" he wrapped his arms around her skirt-covered legs and waited for her to pick him up and twirl him around, like always.

"Mummy?" he looked up at her, wondering if the influenza had changed his mother.

Lisbon did not look down at him, instead she stared straight at Rigsby's astonished face. He too was not accustomed to her behaviour with Junior. Especially after all this time with her being to spend only so much time with him, he had expected her to show more affection o her son immediately.

"How could you?" she spat, clenching her hands into fists and letting another tear fall, "After all these years how could you do this to me?" Junior let go of her leg as she moved more into the kitchen.

"What did I do?" Rigsby rasied his eyebrows and his hands up in defense, "What do you mean?"

Lisbon moved until she stood right before Rigsby, her hands still clenched up tight and her jaw set, "You played with my thoughts!" her voice grew louder, "How _dare_ you!" the sound that came out was almost pitiful as tears began to flow in greater quantities down her cheeks.

"You knew I loved him!"

"Teresa, if you would just lis-Ow!" Rigsby yelped and immediately recoiled back as he promptly felt long fingernails cut against the flesh of his cheek, "Lisbon!"

She heard a gasp behind her and stopped. Lisbon looked over her shoulder and saw Junior staring at her in shock, wondering what had came over his mother to cause her to resort to physical violence. Looking down, Lisbon felt guilty. She knew that Junior should not have heard nor seen any of this and that is why she moved back from Rigsby.

Quickly looking him over, she noticed that the scratches weren't too deep and would not scar. They may pucker slightly and be red for a while, but he would be okay. Shutting her eyes and breathing in a sigh, she spoke, "Wayne, I am sorry."

Turning away, she moved out of the kitchen and passed Junior. She walked into the living room and made way for the door. Once her fingers brushed against the knob, a voice spoke behind her. It was calm, collected, and smooth with an alluring sense to it.

"You look well, Teresa."

The voice made her pause and turn around towards the unknown. At the sight of the man before her, she stopped completely. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. What she saw before her was definitely a trick of the mind, and seeing him here only made her angry with herself and feel the sudden need to go back to Rigsby and slap him this time. More tears ran down her cheeks and she hunched her shoulders up. Balling his hands into fists, she opened her eyes and locked them with his stare.

"You bastard!" she raised her voice and moved towards him, opening up her palm and promptly pushing the end of it up into his nose. A sickening crack was heard and his head snapped back. The blond man yelped and stepped back as he held his nose while the blood began to flow out of his nostrils.

She seemed to always aim for his nose, just like everyone else as of late.


	5. Chapter Five

**Once again thank everyone for all the readings, reviews, and subscriptions. Now I'm off to make dinner in high hopes of not burning down the kitchen!**

**Disclaimer: No!**

**Once Lost, Now Found**

**Chapter Five**

When he first saw her awake and roaming around, his heart swelled and he smiled at the sight. He called out to her and watched her stiffen before she turned around to face him. Then he took in her furious glance at the last minute before she referred to him as "you bastard" before promptly using the base of her palm and hitting it against his nose. After that he felt pain and a waterfall of blood gushing through his nostrils.

Jane held onto his nose, he felt the blood trying to push past his fingers and dribble onto the polished floor. Why the petite little woman did this? He did not know. Really, it wasn't a crime to enter one's home invited. Nor did he really think it was a crime to get separate on a doomed ship either.

"You bastard!" she yelled at him again as she pulled her fingers in to make a fist and swung back.

He took one hand away from his nose and held it up in front of him, "Whoa Teresa!" She stopped and her eyes widened. It was like she had just realized that it was in fact _him_ that she was hitting and calling a bastard. Her gaze softened and her fist fell to her side.

"Patrick?" she spoke softly when tears began bubbling up at the corners of her eyes. She took a small step back and brought her hand up to lightly dab at her lower lip, "Are you really here?"

He nodded as he hesitantly took a few step towards her, "Yes, I'm here. I'm here," he felt tears roll down the sides of his cheeks. Seeing the familiar love and devotion in her eyes was almost heartbreaking, especially because he knew she was to be married to Walter Mashburn in a matter of months.

She shut her eyes and immediately propelled herself into his body. Lisbon wrapped her arms around his neck and he around her waist. He leaned down and buried his head in the crook of her neck, one of his hands running up and down her spine as he felt her sides spasm as she cried. One of his hands came up to rest on the back of her head, keeping her close to his body. Jane looked over her and saw Rigsby standing in the doorway, a crestfallen look to his face. The larger man looked down, knowing that they were both in a tough position because of her engagement.

Jane's eyes flickered downwards to the petite brunette in his arms, "Teresa," she shifted in his arms and angled her head upwards, "Could we please take this outside? I wish to discuss some matters with you."

She nodded softly and reluctantly pulled away from him. Before he could get too far from her, she reached and grasped his hand into hers as if she were afraid that if he got too far away from her, she'd lose him again. He swallowed and blinked away a tear. She was not going to make their discussion any easier by showing him outward signs of affection like this.

They moved through the front door and came to stand in front of it. He shut the door and maintained a calm exterior. Turning to her, he saw her smiling face looking back at him. Inside his chest, he felt his heart accelerate faster than it had been before he had seen her earlier.

"Teresa," she softly blinked, "How are you?"

She nodded, "I am well. Just getting over the influenza." She looked up at him, "How are you fairing?"

Jane fought back a sad smile, but failed, "I wish I could say that I am well," she gave him a perplexed glance, wanting him to continue on and give her an explanation, "Teresa, I know you are enagaged to marry Walter Mashburn." He also knew that Walter Mashburn was an extremely wealthy man and hated not getting what he wanted. Teresa Lisbon was a very beautiful woman, and no doubt captured his attention when she first arrived in Sacramento, but he also knew that Walter loved women. She also was not his kind of woman, which scared him.

Lisbon looked downwards at her shoes, "Yes," she whispered, "I am engaged to him," pausing, she looked up at him, "But I do not love him like I love you."

He rested his hand on her forearm, "Do you love him at all?" his leaned down to allow his eyes to search hers, "Please tell me."

She shrugged her small shoulders, "Under his egotistical character and insatiable hunger to bed a woman, I care about him," her eyes flickered back up to his, "But not enough to marry him."

Jane did not know what to do next. He half debated to take her in his arms and kiss her and have a mental celebration or cry. He loved hearing that, there was no denying, but he also felt that it was wrong in a sense. Sure he was never one to follow the rules, and this was a time when he really did not want to follow them, but this was her life. He did not want to ruin everything for her, especially since she had just started getting back up on her feet.

"And he is not Junior's father," she gave him a small smile, "You do know that you are, Patrick?"

Jane's eyes widened. After realizing that she was alive, he knew that Junior was her son. For some odd reason, that concept did not entirely click until now. His newfound fatherhood to Junior was almost an amazing thought, especially since only number of years ago he lost his young daughter to a crazed man.

"You will stay, won't you?"

He shut his eyes; he did not entirely know what to say to her. Jane wanted to tell her yes, he wanted to stay here with her, marry her, make love to her, and raise Junior. His brain was telling him to just scream the word yes to her, as was his heart. But he couldn't help but think about what would happen if and when her husband to be finds out who he is, how much he means to her, and what they did in the past.

"Maybe."

**Next chapter actually has both Mashburn and Minelli in it. Writing them shall be fun. **


	6. Chapter Six

**I am so sorry for a delay! I accidentally lost track of when was the last time I updated this! A couple of days ago I saw: JANUARY and believe me, I was mad at myself. Yes, I've done a whole lot worse when it comes to updating (such as "The Immortals" for instance) but I'm hoping to work on that soon, but please don't take my word on it! **

**Disclaimer: It's currently on my birthday list, but I doubt I'll get it. But hey, a girl can dream!**

**Once Lost, Now Found **

**Chapter Six**

Lisbon folded over another blanket and plopped it down in the whicker basket by her feet. She sighed to herself as another cool breeze brushed past and pushed more strands of hair into her eyes. With a huff of breath, she pushes them aside and grabs one of Junior's shirts off of the clothesline. She turns it over and inspects where he had made that stain a couple of days ago, and is slightly disappointed to see it still there, but barely.

"God help that boy," she mumbled under her breath and quickly folded up the child's shirt and threw it down into the basket.

For the past week, Junior had been overly excited over _everything. _It started when Jane came into town as the artist that Minelli had hired, and since then the young boy has done nothing but chatter happily about the curly haired man. There were times where she certainly found it endearing, and times where she wanted to slap Jane upside the head for arousing such manners from Junior. If Jane were to stay – which she was hoping he would – she knew she would have to give up her sanity. Having Jane around Junior for the next several years is a warrant for massive headaches, sore throats, and stress.

"Teresa!" she jumped at the sound of a familiar voice behind her. Slowly she turned to look over her shoulder, and she almost dreaded what she saw. Seeing Walter Mashburn around here wasn't uncommon, especially when he was trying to woo her, but now it didn't seem right for some odd reason. Now that Jane was back, being around Walter just seemed…wrong.

"It's been so long since I have last seen you!" he stopped a few feet in front of her and glanced over her, "You look much better," he smiled and moved towards her to take the sides of her face into his hands and he placed a kiss on her forehead, "I can't wait to get down to business."

Right, business. They were supposed to be planning a wedding. A wedding that will 'wow' the people of Sacramento and leave all the other couples envious. It wasn't something that Lisbon wanted, and Walter somewhat seemed to notice, but he really desired a big and flashy wedding.

She tries to smile at him, but found it hard to do so, "It's great to see you too, Walter." Walter quirked his eyebrow and looked down at her. He seemed to know something was off with her, and no doubt will begin the questioning.

"What's wrong, Teresa?"

Lisbon looked away from him and moved down the clothesline. She plucked more clothespins off of the sheet and began to tug it down when Walter's hand was placed over hers. She paused and looked up at him and noticed the sincere concerned look in his eyes. She cared about Walter Mashburn, but she just didn't love him enough to want to marry him. She wanted Patrick Jane just like she always had for the past five years. Her love for him only grew, and has only enhanced almost ten fold when she saw him an hour ago – before he took Junior out to buy candy.

She forced her eyes to look up at him, "Patrick's here," she could barely say as the words choked on the back of her throat. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him.

Walter just stared at her. She had told him a long time ago that she was still in love with another man named Patrick. This same Patrick had also fathered her son, Patrick Alexander Jane or better known as Junior, and whom she still loved. For years she tried to let Walter know she wouldn't marry him, and that he was competing with a ghost, and now that aforementioned "ghost" is back and alive, the engagement could soon become null and void.

"Patrick," he spoke carefully, "Junior's father? The same man that perished on the _Titanic_ five years ago?" she nodded at him and felt tears build at the corners of her eyes, "What the hell is he doing alive in Sacramento?"

She gripped her hands tighter around the sheet and she furrowed her eyebrow. Sudden anger boiled within her at the choice of Walter's words, and she was fighting the urge to hit him. He knew this judging by the way his eyes widened under her intense gaze.

"You do not get to speak like that about him," she whirled around, her green eyes darkening with rage, "He has done nothing to you, and yet you always act like you hate him. You have not even met Patrick!"

Walter stood higher, "But I know he's trying to take away what I want and what I've been trying to gain for years," he leaned in closer to her, his eyes staring deep into hers, "And that is you, Teresa."

She straightened, "I'm not someone's prize," she told him sternly and bent down to grasp onto the handles of the basket.

Without glancing back over her shoulder, she started back towards the house. During the walk, she focused on breathing in and out in hopes of calming herself. The last thing she wanted to show to anyone was how angry and flustered she was, especially with her fiancé. She tried to shake off the anger as she walked through the door and into the kitchen. Wordlessly, she dropped the basket onto the kitchen table rather aggressively and turned on her heel and started towards the stairs. Grabbing onto the skirt, she hiked it up to keep from tripping, and moved up the stairs. When she reached the top, she nearly ran into her room, slamming the door and locking it behind her.

…

When Jane walked into the house with Junior, he was surprised to hear sudden movement upstairs, a slamming door, followed by a lock moving in place. Jane took one look down at his son, who looked up at him while munching on his cream stuffed cookie, and pushed the small boy towards the kitchen.

"I need to go talk to your mother."

Junior nods at him and moved into the kitchen. Jane watched him settle in a little by setting the bag down on the table and pulling out his favourite chair. The blond man smiled softly before looking up the staircase in the direction of his love. He sighed and began to move up the stairs, his left hand barely ghosting over the fine wood. Once he reached the top, he started off towards her bedroom. He closed his eyes upon standing in front of the door and lifted his fist upwards to softly knock on the door.

Behind the door, he heard a muffled _"No,"_ before he knocked again, this time speaking, "Teresa, it's me. Patrick," he hoped that would get something else other than a decline from her.

He heard her sigh on the other side of the door and move closer. He heard a floorboard creak underneath her footsteps before the soft click of the lock reached his ears. Jane looked forward, his eyes immediately catch onto hers as she moves the door back barely and leans against it.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she sighed quickly.

He glanced her over, and it didn't take all the knowledge in the world to know that she had been previously crying. She had taken a good handkerchief and dabbed at her cheeks before she had opened the door. Something had to have set her off enough for her to retreat into her bedroom and cry about it.

"Teresa," he whispered, "Please talk to me."

She shook her head, "It is nothing of your concern," she tried to push the door closed, but he wedged his foot between the frame and solid door.

He mentally cursed himself on impact, but regained his composure quickly, "Please Teresa, you know that you can trust me. You did so once, why not again," he pushed the door more open and stepped inside, "I love you, no matter what happens."

Lisbon looked down, her teeth chewing on the plump flesh of her lower lip, "Patrick, I love you too, but -."

"There should not be any buts!" he interrupted her, "I love you, you love me. Why are you still marrying Walter?" the shock that flickered through her eyes gave him all the information that he needed to know. Walter must have come by earlier, accosted her, and said something inappropriate.

"I don't know," she whispered.

**Random fact: Did you know that Oreo cookies were founded in 1912? I didn't until I googled Oreo cookies a couple of hours ago. Yes, that was what Junior was supposed to be eating. **


	7. Chapter Seven

**Okay, so where do I start apologizing for the tardiness of this update? Words really can't describe how mad I am at myself for neglecting it for so long. If it makes it better, I did write about half of this chapter and then lose it. So...yeah. This chapter also turned out a lot different than what I had originally in mind, which may or may not be a bad thing. Depends on what you guys think :)**

**I would like to thank those who subscribed to this and favourited. Y'all (homage to living in Texas) rock! **

**Yay33N - Thank you so much! I'm flattered :) Though I personally love Walter Mashburn, but I'm making him as a pill in this story as he is meant to be the antagonist here. **

**Disclaimer: I promise that I don't own The Mentalist. Bruno Heller does. **

**Once Lost, Now Found**

**Chapter Seven**

She knew what she had just said was the truth, and so did he. She loves him and there is nothing that she can do to change that, even though she was engaged to be married to Walter Mashburn. He loves her back and much more so than Walter ever could, and that concept slightly frightens her.

"Teresa," he spoke softly and took hold of her chin in his weathered hand, "It is of my concern that you may marry a man that you do not love. It is my concern because I love you."

His tone of voice was so sincere and she could not keep her breath from hitching in her throat. She felt an overwhelming amount of emotions hit her all at once and also felt the overwhelming desire to hit him and then kiss him. For years Walter had tried time and time again to woo her into a relationship and then later marriage. Once she accepted his proposal, the man was practically over the moon. Now with Patrick Jane back into the picture, things have changed dramatically, and most likely not in Walter's favour. Only on a couple of instances had she seen Walter angry, and she knows that the man will follow up on his threats. His threats are what worry her. It's not like she is afraid that Walter is going to hurt her, but more over that he would hurt Jane for 'stealing' her away from him.

She places her hand above his and pushes it away from her chin. Lisbon tries to take in a deep breath and look up at him, but realizes she can't look him squarely in the eye without the urge to profess her love to him again and again. Not that he would mind. He shifts before her and takes her hands in both of his and moves in closer to her. Her eyes slip shut and she feels him press a soft kiss to her cheek.

"I love you too," she whispered, her eyes opening and gazing into his. She gulps and somehow finds the courage to add onto her previous statement, "But I love Walter too."

His hands tighten around hers and she instantly feels like she has just committed the greatest of all sins. Jane almost looks angry with her when she stated that she also loved Walter Mashburn and not just him. The anger in his eyes almost seems predatory and she can't even deny the warmth that stirs in her belly under his intense gaze.

Jane pulls her closer to his body and removes one hand from hers. He quickly places it at the back of her head and pulls her head roughly until her lips were only millimetres from his, "I dare you to say it again," his pupils instantly dilate.

She stands on her toes, "I love Walter," her voice is low and challenging. She is challenging him to brutally kiss her and to be honest she has yet to realize why. She knows that this really isn't the right thing to do, but who cares anymore. She's in love with Patrick Jane and consequences be damned.

He wraps an arm around her waist and tugs her closer until she is flush against his body. Jane takes one last glance into her eyes and presses a hard kiss against her mouth. He moves his mouth sensually over hers, his tongue running along her bottom lip. She gasps and feels his tongue move inside of her mouth and stroke against her own. She moves both of her hands up to wrap around his neck, one hand burying into his curls as their mouths continue to move against one another's.

They move away from each other briefly for oxygen. He intensely stares down at her and his hands drift from around her waist to around her hips. Under his gaze, she shifts her footing and runs her tongue along her bottom lip. Her lips are swollen. His eyes darken and he grips onto her hips tighter and starts to move her backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed. She falls backwards and he moves so he is above her, his arms pressed against either side of her to keep his weight from crushing her petite body.

He leans down and presses a softer kiss against her cheek and then against the corner of her mouth. Her breath hitches in her throat and she raises on leg to tangle with one of his. One of his hands caress the side of her cheek and he leans down again to press a passionate kiss against her lips and press the lower half of his body into hers. She gasps and throws her head back to arch into his body. She reaches her hands up to rest on his shoulders and digs her nails in. Realizing and also disliking the fact that he is still wearing a shirt, she begins to pull it from his trousers and pull it over his head. He grunts in response and temporarily moves away from her to help her remove it from his body. He haphazardly throws it onto the floor before he goes back down and contenting himself with trailing kisses down the side of her throat.

Jane stops when he reaches the silky lace collar of her shirt and looks up at her. He brings his fingers to the little buttons and begins to deftly undo them. The entire time she watches him, her eyes a smoky green and her mouth parted. She sits up more alert to help him remove her shirt and he is instantly greeted with pale creamy skin. He smiles and leans down to press a series of soft kisses across her shoulders, collar bone, and finally her chest. She hums and runs her hand through his silky blond locks as he trails kisses down the length of her body. He pauses when he gets to her abdomen and sits up a little to gaze down at her. Curiously, she sits up and looks down to see what Jane is staring at and instantly realizes. Stretch marks.

When she was pregnant, stretch marks had formed against her skin. She often commented to Grace about how she hated them and wish there was some way she could get them to go away as they made her extremely self-conscious. Especially with Jane looking down at her abdomen with adoration.

"Patrick," she whispers.

He doesn't look up and reaches forward to stroke a finger along one of the marks, "You're beautiful."

She shifts beneath his gaze and tries to cover her body, "Patrick, please don't look at my belly."

He takes hold of her wrists and looks into her eyes, "These marks were given to you as you were carrying my child," he looks back down at her belly and presses a soft kiss on every couple of marks he can see, "It only makes me love you more."

Her heart swells and she has to bite her lip to keep herself from making any type of unwanted noise. She leans back down against her pillow and continues to run a hand through Jane's hair as he worships her abdomen, and when she feels tear droplets hitting the skin of her belly, she knows to the extent as to how much he loves her. And it is more than Walter Mashburn could ever love her.

…

Walter entered the Virgil Minelli home in hopes of meeting up with his fiancée to see why she had been avoiding him earlier today. He knew that Patrick Jane, Junior's father, was here in Sacramento and he had to admit that he did feel an extent of jealousy towards the man, though he'd never readily admit that. He had spent years trying to grab her attention, and once he did, Patrick Jane comes back into the picture and shatters all chance he had at marrying a beautiful woman.

He turned his head at the sight of movement out of the corner of his eye and sees Minelli standing in the doorway from his study, "Ah, Walter, how have you been faring?"

Walter shifted his footing, "Well, I could be better as my fiancée seems to have found a new object of her desire. Patrick Jane, the artist you hired."

Minelli nods in recognition, "Yes, I had some sort of idea that this Patrick Jane may indeed be Junior's father. It is one of the reasons why I asked for him to come to Sacramento."

"Even with her engaged to me?" Walter crossed his arms over his chest, slight fury and betrayal threatening to overtake his actions, "Because you and I both know that I can own everything that you own and love in a matter of seconds."

The older man refused to be intimidated, "I wanted to see her happy. For so long she has been void of happiness and from what Mr. Rigsby has told me, Patrick Jane may be the best way to fill that void."

"She is happy with me. She will continue to be happy with me even after our marriage," Walter pressed on, "and I will not allow some weakling of a man take that away from me."

Minelli looked at Walter. Everyone knew that he was a type of man that always got what he wanted, which is what attracted him to Teresa Lisbon in the first place. She was the first woman he'd ever encountered that would not fall head over heels in love with him and fall into his bed. It was because she seemed forbidden to woo and love to all the other men was why Walter pursued her steadfastly. This was mostly because when she arrived to Sacramento, she had a notable swell to her abdomen signalling she was with child. Walter Mashburn was the only man around that had the guile to woo her.

**Again, I apologize for neglecting this story for so long again. It's one of the reasons why I was absent from this site for so long. I really wanted to update this one...:(**

**Next time I'm going to try to update "The Immortals," my other very AU story. **


	8. Chapter Eight

**Hi. ~Looks around carefully~ Long time no read? Well, I must say that it has been rather difficult to get back into writing this story. But I won't complain as it's my own fault. Well, that in writer's block. I would like to thank those who read, reviewed, favourited, and subscribed to this story - especially a year ago. And I also hope that people will remain willing to continue reading this story, as I do not plan for it to go on much longer. I also want to thank those who have been repeatedly inquiring about this story. Believe me, you guys were a big help with getting this chapter written. Enjoy this update, please!**

**sbrt - Thank you! I'm glad that you liked where it's heading. : )**

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own The Mentalist. Bruno Heller does.**

**Once Lost, Now Found**

**Chapter Eight**

Patrick Jane sat with his back against the solid trunk of a tree, knees bent up as he kept the book against them. A paper was being pressed down as he held the charcoal to it. He was drawing himself with Lisbon, their son, Junior, in between and in front of them. Only as he drew the young boy did he realize that the alarmingly exact appearance that he had shared with the child when he was the same age.

Poking his tongue out to rewet his lips, he smeared his thumb over the paper to blend the shadows on Lisbon's cheeks. Leaning down, he blew and watched as the charcoal remnants slid off of the page and onto the grass below.

Nearby, a throat was cleared.

Jane looked up from his project, his eyes landing on a man clad in a pristine suit. The man, dark-haired and tall, held a slightly haughty way about him and continued to walk towards him as if he owned the place. Ah, yes, this was Walter Mashburn.

"You must be Patrick Jane," Walter said as he swaggered up to stand before him. "_The_ Patrick Jane."

Jane drew his lips into a thin line and gripped the charcoal tighter in his hand. "And you must be Walter."

Mashburn only smiled. "Yes, Teresa's fiancé. I'm quite honoured to finally meet you, Mister Jane."

Holding out his hand for Jane to take, Mashburn gave him a sly smirk. Gladly returning the gesture, Jane placed his charcoal-covered hand in the man's and gave it a firm shake as he stood, dropping the book with the drawing into the grass. Noting that Mashburn was a good few centimetres taller than him, Jane made sure not to really anger the man.

"Likewise," Jane replied.

He pulled his hand away form Mashburn's, quite happy to see the man look down and grimace at his dirty hands. Smiling at the other's discomfort, Jane wiped his hands on his trousers before clasping them together behind his back. Rolling back and forth on his heels, he waited for Mashburn to continue the conversation.

"How long do you plan on staying in Sacramento, Mister Jane?"

Tossing his head back and forth, Jane pretended to contemplate his answer. "Oh, I do not really know. I find that I rather like it here."

Mashburn's jaw clenched before he emitted a bitter laugh. "You see, Mister Jane, I couldn't help but be curious as to why you would rather _California_ over _New York_."

Jane tossed his head to the side once more. "I guess it must be the people, then."

A vein pulsed in Mashburn's temple, his jaw clenched again. "Teresa Lisbon is mine, Mister Jane. I advise you to stay away from her."

"That's a bit old-fashioned, is it not?" Jane asked, taking a few steps to the side in case he would have to make a run for it. It would not do if his back were practically against a tree. "Women ought to have a say in who they marry these days. It is the twentieth century, after all."

Mashburn took a step closer to him. "She chose me. She accepted my proposal. I can give her anything and everything she could ever want. Why would she choose you?"

Instead of answering, Jane looked up at Mashburn darkly. The other man smirked insolently at him and stalked over towards where the drawing lay in the grass. Mashburn craned his neck, examined the drawing, and looked back up at Jane. His smirk never left his face as he started to walk away, his hand reaching into the inner pocket of his coat to pull out a white handkerchief.

* * *

Setting the plate back into the rack, Lisbon folded the towel neatly and set it on the countertop. She had been warned several times not to over-exert herself, but she hardly counted cleaning up after breakfast to be hard work. She was not as fragile as everyone made her out to be.

"Mummy! Mister Patrick is back!"

Smiling, she started to move out of the kitchen and towards the front of the house. Looking out the window, she spotted Junior standing outside – covered in mud again – and pointing at the speck that she assumed to be Jane. Her heart fluttering inside her chest, she moved to step out of the house and towards her lover.

Upon stepping through the door, Junior ran up to her and pulled her hand into his little one. Swinging her arm a little and looking down at her son, he beamed back at her brightly. It then occurred to her that the child did not know who Jane was to him. Well, Junior thought that Jane was nothing more than the man that shared his name who came to California to paint.

"Mummy, is Mister Jane going to live with us forever?"

Her smile faltered a little. "I hope so," she said. "I really do hope so."

The little boy nodded his head. "Me too!"

Turning her gaze back onto the direction of the little speck, she noted that it was coming closer and closer. No longer a speck, she could easily make out Jane walking down the narrow pathway towards the house. Lisbon brushed her hand against Junior's back and smiled.

"Mummy?" he asked, looking up at her. "D'you think that Daddy would have wanted Mister Jane to be my new daddy? I like him."

Lisbon stiffened and looked down at her son. "Tommy Doyle is named because of his daddy. I am too, right Mummy?"

She patted Junior's back and moved her hand up to rustle through his unruly dark hair. "Junior…" she started, only to be interrupted by Jane.

"Hello, Junior." Jane smiled and moved forward, patting the little boy on the head similarly like his mother previously did. "Good day, I hope?"

Junior's eyes sparkled as he looked up at his father (even though he did not know of this yet) and smiled. "Yes, Mister Jane!"

His smile growing larger, Jane knelt down in front of the child. "Would you like to hear the story of how I met your mother?" Junior nodded eagerly. "Well, that settles it! Why do you not go inside and wash up first."

Standing back up, he ushered Junior back towards the door. The little boy took one last glance at the taller blond man before he went into the house. Smiling a bit after the boy, Jane turned back to Lisbon's shorter being.

"He doesn't know, Patrick," she spoke softly.

Jane's lips quirked in a small smile, but his eyes remained serious. Carefully, he leaned forward and reached up with his hand to clutch onto her chin. Lisbon looked at him in the eye, her intense gaze never faltering from his.

"We must tell him soon. Junior's a clever boy, he will discover the truth sooner rather than later."

Lisbon quirked her eyebrow up, thinking he was mostly talking for the sake of it. "Pray tell me what makes you so sure about that?" she scoffed.

Smirking, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on her mouth. "He is my son, Teresa."

"And?"

"He will discover the truth."

This time he kissed her cheek, before pulling away from her. Giving her one last smile, Jane continued on towards the house. Following him with her eyes, Lisbon sighed as she watched him enter and search for their boy. Turning around again, she looked out and took in a deep breath.

As she made her way back to the door and began to reach out for the knob, the barrier was opened before her. Jane stood there, his eyes wide and frantic. Instantly her heart began to race inside her chest, knowing that there would only be one reason why he would look at her like this.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Junior's gone." His chest too was heaving.

"What?"

She pushed through the door into the house until she reached the kitchen. There was a glass of milk on the table, most likely Junior's chosen drink before he washed up, and the back door slightly ajar. At the very sight, her heart sank into her chest.

"He overheard us."

Lisbon turned her gaze back onto Jane's, this time her eyebrow was quirked questioningly. She watched as Jane's eyes drifted towards the window, the one that was not far from where they had been talking. It was open, if the drapes fluttering as the wind passed through was any indication.

Swallowing the lump that was rapidly forming in her throat, Lisbon started towards the back door. She moved the door open and went through it. As she was about to close it, Jane grabbed the wood. Looking into his eyes was enough confirmation for her to know that he too was going to come help her search for their son. With a slight nod, she continued out with him following after her.

Within a few minutes of their search, thunder storm clouds started to swarm in overhead. Lisbon glanced up, her heart constricting with the upsetting knowledge that Junior was terrified of thunder.

"He will be afraid," she whispered.

Jane came up beside her, took her hand in his, and squeezed it. "We ought to go our separate ways to find him." She nodded. "You go east and I will go west. We will find him, Teresa."

Nodding, she started to pull away from him when his grip tightened once more and brought her flush against him. She was about to protest, to tell him that they had to look for Junior when he pressed a loving kiss to her lips. The action calmed her down a sense, and she pulled away to begin her search eastward. She looked over her shoulder one more time to see Jane turning to go west.

With a small smile, she tucked a stray piece of hair that began to fall from her bun behind her ear. And with a newfound bubble of confidence, she resumed the search for her son.

* * *

**I'll be honest here, I don't have the actual draft that I had when I initially started this story. Also, all previous drafts of this chapter (there were quite a few) have been either lost or destroyed. But that's no longer important, really, as here's finally the eighth chapter. Hope everyone enjoyed! **


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